


Doing You on a Piece of Gothic Architecture

by Captain_Depth



Category: Rocky Horror Picture Show
Genre: F/M, Multi, Slow Burn, riff raff isn't bald
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29474157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Depth/pseuds/Captain_Depth
Summary: You got caught in a storm on your motorcycle, and before you freeze to death, you make your way to a large, dark mansion. The man who greeted you at the door seemed to catch your eye, and you his, maybe you'll make a new friend, or maybe someone will catch feelings.
Relationships: Riff Raff (Rocky Horror)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Dammit Janet

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this fic, tags will be added as chapters are added and the story continues, I hope you enjoy

You speed down the road, rain whipping against your black helmet as you push your motorcycle to its limits, your body shivering from the biting cold. Your fingertips are numb yet you ride on closer to the looming castle in hopes of finding shelter. The weather showed no sign of improving, and the road seemed to only get more dangerous. _Just a few more minutes and I’ll be at that castle, hopefully they’ll let me stay the night_ , you think, as you approach your destination. 

Pulling up to the castle grounds, you soak in the sight. The walls are covered in lush ivy that parts for each of the seemingly infinite windows. The building itself is quite an impressive structure up close, the roof disappears into the storm clouds as you search for the top. In the midst of admiring the building, you catch a hint of a shadow of something moving on one of the upper floors and hesitantly walk up to the grand entrance. Finally you’re out of the rain, but a heavy set of doors stands between you and a dry place to spend the night. Before your shaky hand can reach the dusty antique doorbell, the doors swiftly swing open to reveal a towering, ominous male figure. The soft glow of candlelight illuminates his silhouette as it fills the doorway. As he steps forward, a pale beam of moonlight enlightens you to the unique intricacies of his visage. Now but a couple feet apart, you can see that his eyes look sunken and tired, his eye bags large enough to fill a trash can. Despite this, you caught the glint of a sparkle behind them and as he stands there, you take in his other features: the blond hair flowing down past his shoulders, his confident stance, his cheekbones and jaw almost too pronounced, and what seems to be a hunch to his back.

“Hello there.”

His nasally voice catches you off guard and for a second, you forget what you were going to ask.

“Um…I...uh...” you stumble over your words for a second or two.

You clear your throat. “Hi, sorry to intrude but do you have a place I could stay for the night? The weather is awful and I only have a motorcycle to travel with.”

The man allows his gaze to linger on you, dragging his eyes up and down your figure with no discernable intent, and the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile. You give him your name and he nods, offering no response. He takes a step back and turns to the side, welcoming you over the threshold...at least you hope it’s a welcome. 

The warm air inside surrounds you as the smell of burning candles, slightly decrepit books, and mild dampness fills your head. You hear some faint music filling the air of an unseen room, only barely audible to you.The figure moves carefully up the winding stairs, quickly throwing you a glance that affirms you’re trailing behind him. The hallways are dimly lit and unkempt, giving you a sense of unease, but eventually you make it to a door and the man stops. He grabs the handle and turns it roughly, as it seemed to be stuck in place, and pushes open the door with a hefty groan from both the man and the hinges.

“Welcome to your room, please enjoy your night,” he says flatly.

Before you have the chance to even step into the room, he begins to leave and as he turns, his eyes wander back to catch yours but then flick away quickly, and he completes his turn with a hasty stride as he heads back down the hallway. You shrug off his mannerisms with the assumption that he simply doesn’t get out much, forgetting about it as you poke your head into the doorway, trying to find a lightswitch. As you blindly pat your hand against the inner wall, you find it and flick it upwards, noticing it’s cold and stiff like everything else in the mansion. 

It illumes your quarters, revealing a decently cozy room covered in a thin layer of dust as if it hasn’t been touched in years. _If I catch some weird disease from this place, ugh_ , you sigh to yourself as you finally set your bag down and sit on something that isn’t your stiff motorcycle seat for the first time in hours. Luckily your bag kept your travel clothes dry, and you change into your pajamas, the soft material of the boxers and loose tank top giving you relief from your damp leather jacket and jeans. You brush a small cloud of dust off of the covers and pillows, lying down to try and settle in for the night, and you look through your bag, searching for the book you packed. Finally you spot the spine of a book, the word _Scandalabra_ peeking through the mess of spare socks and tools, and you pull it out to calm your nerves and tire your brain out. You scan the pages for hours, finding comfort in the familiarity of the words as you drift off to sleep. 

Your book falls from your hands onto the soft comforter as your breathing steadies, and your eyelids struggle to stay open. As you lose the fight against your tired eyes, you catch a glimpse of a dark figure reaching in to turn off your light and close the door. As it shuts, in the light of the hallway, you watch a wisp of blonde hair fade from sight as the room is engulfed in darkness.


	2. Tomb Warp

Grogginess and the warmth of sunshine greets you as your eyes flutter open. You push the prison of covers off and slide to the side of the bed, rubbing your well-rested eyes.

Standing and moving to the window, you notice your motorcycle sitting outside, knocked over by the wind and absolutely drenched. _Shit that's going to be expensive._ Sighing, you take your mind off the looming hope your insurance will cover that, and take a closer look around the room. A nice vanity adorned with small gems sat in one corner, a plush seat resting in front of it. As you pan to the right: an armoire, a desk, a vase with an arrangement sat neatly inside–you make out a nice bouquet of queen anne’s lace among the other flowers. Then a painting of two nude ladies hanging on the wall comes into sight above you, and your eyes end back up on the rumpled sheets of your bed.

_I should get dressed._ You rustle through your travel bag and play outfit roulette. A black mesh top, some ripped jeans, and some warm socks. _Classy._ You throw on the clothes and your now dry leather jacket, two chains faithfully around your neck as per usual. 

You make your way downstairs, sunlight coming in through the dusty windows that lights the foyer and your path to the landin. Several corridors looming in front of you, and for no particular reason you choose the rightmost path, walking down dusty hallways one after the other. _I swear I passed this headless statue at least three times._ After what must have been at least 5 minutes of aimless wandering, you accidentally bump your shoulder into something, and as you turn to see what it was, your eyes trail up and catch a familiar face.

“Mmph.” He grunts and dusts off his black tailcoat. “Someone’s in quite the hurry.” 

“Ah I’m sorry-” you begin to apologize, but he cuts you off with a small huff and motions for you to follow him. He takes you expertly through the maze that is the house, and you begin to wonder how you’ll ever make your way back to your room. Finally arriving at a set of ornate doors, the man pushes them open and you begin to take in the impressive sight of the dining room.

You’re distracted with the carved door handles and countless sparkling silverware as you stand flabbergasted in the doorway, this place could have easily been mistaken as preparation for an extravagant dinner party. You wonder why the table was this exquisitely prepared at 7 in the morning and miss the man behind you telling you to enter. 

“This isn’t a historic house museum, please help yourself to a seat.” He gives you a few seconds and after no response he lets out a small sigh. 

His hands gently come to rest on your waist as he moves you slightly to the side so he can get past. Grabbing an apple from the bowl in the middle of the obnoxiously adorned table, he polishes it on his sleeve.

“I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself. I’m Riff Raff.”

He looks you in the eye and tosses the fruit your way. Your hands stumble a bit over the fruit but eventually it comes to rest in your grasp. Although you caught the apple securely without it ever hitting the floor, you realize it must have been quite the sight because the man whom you now know as Riff Raff has his back half turned to you with the remnants of a smile bleeding through his attempt at aloofness. You roll your eyes a little and take a large bite out of the apple with a shit eating smirk on your face.

“Good morning...Riff Raff.” You try not to snicker at that absolute half-assed attempt at a name and you take a deep breath. “Thank you kindly for letting me stay here for the night, it really was a big help. Not to mention thanks for the food.” You crunch at the apple one more time and lick the bit of juice away before it could drip down your chin. 

“Of course. It’s nice to have some new company around. Although we have a rather colorful group of residents, new faces really do break up the normalcy.” He moves over to a chair and pulls it from the table, motioning for you to sit down. 

You sport a genuine smile and let out a light chuckle. “Well, I think the Queen of England herself would be envious of how nicely you’re treating me, sir.” 

The chair looks quite comfortable, so you oblige and he pushes the chair towards the table in a rather gentlemanly fashion. 

“You don’t get many visitors then, huh?”

Riff Raff sits down in the chair across from you and tucks his hands politely in his lap. “No, not really.” He pauses after this, staring quietly down at the table, almost a little disappointed. 

You stew in your impressions of this man for what seems like an eternity while eating your apple. It’s surprisingly sweet and crisp for an out of season fruit, and you almost forget that you’re a guest, and still need to get home. 

“Fuck.” You quietly mutter to yourself as your grip on the half-eaten apple tightens. Apparently your murmurs weren’t so quiet, as Riff Raff looks to you with an eyebrow cocked.

“Is something wrong?” He asks with a little bit of urgency in his tone.

“Sorry, it’s just I remembered that I still have to get home,” You glance out the window as you finish your sentence, “good thing the weather is looking a lot nicer today.”

“Mmm, I suppose your time as a visitor here _is_ coming to a close”. Riff Raff looks pensive as he says this, something clearly going on behind his eyes.

You finish your apple with a few small bites, and as you stand up to find a place to discard the core, Riff Raff motions for you to put it on a platter in the middle of the table. You stand there in silence for a second, staring at the doorway of the room, until his voice breaks you out of your trance.

“I assume you will need help finding your room again?” 

“Yeah I think so, thank you.”

Riff Raff leads you out of the dining room, again into the maze of intersecting hallways, and as you take the last corner and come across the main staircase, he stops. 

“I’ll wait for you down here, and then I’ll send you on your way home” He says this with a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

You nod and make your way up the stairs, and you swear you can feel a pair of eyes on your back, but you tell yourself it’s just left over anxiety from the night before. 

Your room is exactly how you left it, sheets rumpled and clothes spilling out of your bag. You kneel down beside your belongings and put every item away one at a time, each one becoming harder than the last to pack. It seems this place, _that man,_ was growing on you.

Nearly an eternity later you have your bag packed and you head downstairs, meeting Riff Raff at the entrance, with a small air of melancholy hanging over you both. His eyes don’t quite meet yours and you don’t make much of an effort to tilt your head up to him. As your hand grabs the handle and you turn towards the door, you hear Riff Raff softly call your name.

“Goodbye,” he says in the same tone, hesitating for a second after like there was more but he forgot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the big gap, school kicking my ass :/


End file.
